


I'll Cover You

by ImogenSmiley



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Bulimia, Coming Out, Disordered Eating, ED - Freeform, Eating Disorder, F/F, Recovery, Relapse, Support, TW: Bulimia, TW: disordered eating, relationships, tw: eating disorders, tw: ed, tw: relapse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:27:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28598418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImogenSmiley/pseuds/ImogenSmiley
Summary: Likeminded women tended to make the best pairs. Aoi Asahina and Sakura Ogami were certainly no exception. When the pair enrolled at Hope’s Peak Academy, they had no idea that their other halves would be sitting just two desks away.
Relationships: Asahina Aoi/Ogami Sakura, Implied Ishimondo - Relationship
Kudos: 25





	I'll Cover You

Likeminded women tended to make the best pairs. Aoi Asahina and Sakura Ogami were certainly no exception. When the pair enrolled at Hope’s Peak Academy, they had no idea that their other halves would be sitting just two desks away.

Having similar passions instantly split the small class of seventeen into fragments, leaving Hina spending her first few days talking with just Leon Kuwata and, none other than Sakura.

Initially, like most of her class, she had been intimidated by the looming body that stood with such a menacing stance. She was broad-shouldered and quiet. She would often recall how malicious Celestia and Sayaka’s whisperings could be. But Sakura never let those words touch her like she had heard such crass and cruel thoughts forever.

Hina had too, but never from the other girls. For whatever reason, she always seemed to pass through the crowds of classmates without drawing venomous tongues out from pursed lips. She never understood why she was immune to their words, she wasn’t pretty, not like Junko, or Kyoko. No, she was just plain.

Within the first two weeks, the intimidating aura that surrounded Sakura seemed to dissipate, she had cut her knee that morning, shaving her legs, and patched her war wound with a pink plaster, covered in dainty flowers. There was no fearing her after that.

They were more similar than Hina would have ever anticipated, and, in such a small class, friendships found themselves forming quickly. No matter how much people resisted.

Within their first year of the three, Hina and Sakura started dating. They’d confided their mutual feelings to one another during one of many small-hour sleepovers they’d shared in their dorms. Something about the low lighting, the closeness, and fatigue made loose lips spill confessions that became coming outs.

Hina came out to her class the next day, she’d always known how she felt about girls. She just, never felt that way about boys. With Sakura’s hand in hers, she told her cohort that she was a lesbian, and, much to her frustration, received little response from them. Sakura, followed suit, declaring that unlike Hina, she was bi. Some of the boys had noticeably fidgeted in their seats, particularly Hifumi.

Two, however, shot them a glance from their space at the window. Kiyotaka was sat facing the teacher’s board, but Mondo, who sat in front of him, was facing the crimson eyed boy, straddling the back of his chair, hunched over. They’d been talking quietly together, laughter captured on their faces. They’d stopped talking when they heard Hina speak up, but their feet were still not-so-subtly tangled together. There was a look in both of their eyes, vicarious fear. Solidarity. Understanding. But, it wasn’t their time to tell yet, and that was fine. There was no pressure.

The boys had hushed conversations together about shared experiences respectively with both girls before curfew and laughed together about how ridiculous they’d all been at the start. Teenage feelings were strange.

Hina had never understood how people ignored the beautiful nuances of Sakura. There were so many aspects to her that were blatantly neglected by her classmates. They saw her as muscle and someone to be feared, someone to call upon to intimidate people who mocked the ultimates for their niche skills. They’d never thought to sneak into her dorm room and spend the night whispering together. Their loss, in her opinion.

Hina loved everything about Sakura, from the more obvious things, like how secure she felt in her arms, to how she’d do her makeup every morning. She never felt the need to hide the marks on her skin, despite the subtle underhanded suggestions of lotions that would cover scarring like that. It was like all they saw was the healed gash on her face, and refused to acknowledge the products she’d use. But if Sakura didn’t see them as flaws, what was the need to hide them?

Hina loved how Sakura would put her hair in a fishtail braid each night before bed, and how she wore lavender pajamas. She loved how she never had chipped nail polish and always had chapstick and makeup wipes in her schoolbag.

Sakura was so beautiful, and she hated how the boys at school couldn’t see that. She hated that the boys at her school turned their noses up at them for holding hands between classes, not because they were two girls, but because they thought Sakura was ugly.

God, they were so wrong.

Hina, however, she felt ugly all the time. She saw cellulite on her thighs and ingrown hairs from constantly waxing her legs for better performance in the pool. She saw a bloated stomach from hours of stress eating she had no self-control. She longed for control.

She loathed her vices and how desperately she felt she needed them to keep her performance up. She hated how scratchy her skin would feel after two days without shaving because she couldn’t allocate time for two hours to make herself dolphin-smooth. She hated that her brain didn’t always process information, and how people called her dumb as if the chemicals in pool water had dissolved her brain. She hated how she didn’t have wit, and struggled to understand sarcasm. She never felt in step with the rest of the world.

Sakura often lent an ear to Hina and her problems, even if she struggled to understand all of them. Helping her find ways to study with her ADHD was a task she would happily undertake, but convincing her that food wasn’t the enemy was harder.

Hina was harder to convince on that front than any other athlete Sakura had encountered. Hina knew that eating helped build muscle and muscle would improve performance, after all, she had basically been pigeonholed to be a sporting success after leaving Hope’s Peak. But, she didn’t necessarily want to just be the swimmer girl. She had so many layers to peel back and unpack.

Sakura was a great girlfriend, she believed that with every fiber of her being, but eating disorders and body issues were a completely different kettle of fish, and it was a battle Hina would have to take on herself. She would just have to be there to help tend her wounds.

Nights, where Hina missed meals, were the hardest. Most of her school friends skipped breakfast, and it wasn’t uncommon for the Ultimate sportspeople to swarm the communal kitchen to prepare liquid lunch, Sakura and Hina included. But, Hina had had some rice instead, picking at each grain as if it was laced with arsenic.

That night, Sakura had approached her dormitory with a protein shake and some smoked salmon and rice for her girlfriend to eat or refuse. She wouldn’t force her to do anything, she’d just hoped she wouldn’t be faced by her girlfriend, pale, sweaty, and trembling. She hoped he wouldn’t see Hina stagger from the bathroom. She hoped Hina wasn’t relapsing.

It took a while to get her to talk about it, after all Sakura knew that Hina was so much more than her illness. She’d been sick for a while, and still stolen her heart, and charmed her classmates. But, just like any illness, some days were harder than others.

Hina had refused the meal, and removed it from the room, “Recovery’s really hard Sakura.”

“It’s okay, Hina. Tomorrow will be kinder. There’s always tomorrow. I’m proud of you.”

She opened her arms and allowed her girlfriend to barrel into an embrace. They settled onto a nest of beanbags and listened to music, Hina tentatively sipping the shake that her girlfriend had prepared. It took two hours before she’d finished it, two hours of aimless distraction. But Hina was feeling better.

All that mattered was that Hina was there with her.


End file.
